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(§)pray of tl]e©oldeR§ea. 



BY 



THE REV. DWIGHT WILimMS, 



^Mticu hast no shore, fair ocean ! 
Thou hast no time, hrioht dau: 
^ear fountain of rej-reshimeqt 



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■^eniard of (BliirJ. 



Ibbotson Bros., Publishers, 
Richfield Sprmgs, N. Y 



n'^' 7 1889 oyiV 
/^?A^ lid/ 






COPYRIGHT, 

1889, 

BY REV. DWIGHT WILLIAMS. 



Opray of the i£Xoldea Oea. 

My bark is outward bound 

O'er stormy billows far; 
Beneath, are depths profound, 

Above, the sailing star; 
Somewhere the waves divide 

Along the shadowy w^ay. 
And I shall reach the tide 

Where leaps the golden spray. 

To catch the breezes there 

Will touch with youth the brow^ 
Nor shall a danger dare 

Disturb my sunlit prow^; 
O voyage of delight, 

To watch tlie sails that cross 
The line wdiere storms affright, 

With bitter pain and loss. 

To welcome them, and know 

The battle flags they bore, 
For Him who loved them so 

And won them evermore; 
The salt sea spray is here. 

What if it buffet me 'i 
The boundless tides are near 

Spray of the golden sea. 



Trom the 2){ill 



s. 



The springs of my delight are flowing 
From hills beyond the azure glowing, 
They laugh and leap o'er sunlit ledges, 
Through vales of cloud with crimson edges. 
And pour for me in streams divine, 
I drink, and joy and strength are mine. 

My pathway from the hills is lighted, 
And ah, my eyes grow eager sighted; 
My feet are in the valley wdnding. 
But looking on through sorrows blinding, 
The hills I see of my heart's rest, 
A wayw^orn pilgrim here confessed. 

I journey to the hills befriending, 
With battlements of peace ascending, 
Where sits my King unwearied watching, 
And turns my foes with strength o'ermatching: 
No highway walled more safe can be 
Beneath his towers with guards for me. 



XhrouoK Vistas j^ark. 

o 

Through vistas dark the far off lights 
More brightly gleam upon the heights, 
The sky is vacant in the blaze 
And beauty of the summer days; 
God talketh with His neophytes 
Of His great marvels, and the sights 
Of His vast wonderwork, in nights 
Of silence while they upward gaze 
Through vistas dark. 

So wings the soul in loftier flights 

From that great storm of grief that smites 

It oft, and hides it in the maze; 

The gates are lifted with disj^lays 
Of love w^hich God the Father writes 
Through vistas dark. 



3/Cy Tilot. 



Pilot come to me ! 

The night is dark; 
How shall I cross the Sea 

Or steer my bark ( 
My sails by wind are torn, 

And I am tar 
From home, on fierce waves borne, 
No sun nor star; 
O Pilot come to me, be Thou my guide. 
No danger shall I know upon the tide. 

My Pilot comes to me, 
Ye tierce waves roll ! 

1 glide across the sea 

At His control; 
The winds caress His hand 

And harm me not. 
On deck I smiling stand 
All fear forgot; 
My Pilot talks with me of that dear shore 
Where I shall dwell with Him forevermore. 



£r IKe J\^iag's i£XarcLea. 



I stood outside the gate, 

And longing looked within; 
My heart was desolate 

With poverty and sin; 
And they who waited there 

Like angels seemed to me, 
"Come in !" they said with air 

Of heavenly charity. 

With downcast eyes I came. 

And entered half afraid; 
Bat w hen they spake the name 

Of Him who long since paid 
A debt I conld not pay, 

I felt a great content. 
That seemed with me to stay. 

Which way I turned or w^ent. 

The King bade me remain, 

Ah, Ijeautiful is He; 
He told me of His pain, 

And how^ He bled for me; 
I wept at words so sweet. 

Loth now from Him to part. 
Who made my joy complete, 

And healed my broken heart. 



.jy\s ia a Slrarige (LouRlry, 



The land of our sojourn is fair 

With water- springs cool at our feet, 
With pastures of Hocks for our care, 

And voices most loving and sweet; 
Tis only a land of sojourn, 

A valley of strangers confessed. 
We linger to listen and learn 

Of mansions prepared for our rest. 

And One from the city of gold, 

Long since with a sorrowful guise. 
Came hither with words which He told 

Of visions yet hid from our eyes; 
As in a strange country He dwelt 

With us as a brother indeed; 
Our joys and our sorrows he felt, 

And wrought for our bitterest need. 

As in a strange country ! ah, yes I 

Because of the King gone before. 
Who stood on the mountain to bless 

His people, and rose evermore; 
Where Jesus dwells, there is our home, 

We dream of its mansions possessed; 
As in a strange country we roam, 

With visions of beauty and rest. 






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